By Ted Wilson
Hello, and welcome to Ask Ted Wilson, my weekly advice column where readers ask me questions about absolutely anything, and I tell them what to do. If you have a question you would like answered please write to me at iamtedwilson@gmail.com or leave me a voicemail at (617) 379–2576. I hope to hear from you soon!
Dear Mr. Ted W.,
I keep struggling with the fact that as I get older and older I find it harder to make friends. I have friends I’ve known for 30+ years, so I gather I used to know how to make friends. The hard work of making friends these days does not bring the warmth of friendship, but leaves me feeling more alone. I meet more and more people who seem to be overly friendly but keep that distance that makes it impossible to have a true friendships. I am around all these groups that fight loneliness by being pack animals. They live by the pack laws, yet as I observe them, none seem to be particularly close in friendships, yet they seem happy with this scenario. It’s almost as if the adults are behaving like the kids. Is it me? Or is this something we should talk about? I was raised in Europe; is that the problem? :D
Sincerely,
Natasha
Dear Natasha,
It’s funny how, as children, it’s so much easier for us to make friends. All it took was physical proximity and a shared interest in playing. As an adult, when you ask a stranger, “Do you want to play with me,” the response is usually much less welcoming. One time a man said he did want to play with me, but it turned out he meant something else. He ruined our budding friendship very quickly. He also ruined my tie.
What you’re experiencing is common (though no less difficult), especially the misconception that everyone is happier than you. Feeling lonely and isolated, like you’re not part of the club can be painful. We all want to belong.
I want you to brace yourself, because the older you get, the more your friends will die. If you don’t have any to replace them, you’ll be all alone. This happened to author Joan Didion who writes in The Year of Magical Thinking after her husband died, “Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death.”
Fortunately when my wife Rosie died I had a good selection of temporary friends to get me through the grieving process. There was a squirrel, a collection of antique paper dolls, and even a real person I met named James. Then he died, so I replaced him with a new friend named Jimmy. It was hard on Jimmy to always be compared to James and I had to be careful not to accidentally call Jimmy by James’ name.
I can’t know exactly what the cause of your problem is, but you’re asking the right question: Is it me? It might be. It might be something simple like your clothes. Or it might be something more complicated, such as your face and/or personality. The truth is, no matter who you are, someone out there won’t like you when he or she meets you. You can try to change in order to appease every possible person, but it’s a losing battle. If you’re happy with yourself, stay as you are.
It might be that you’re setting the bar too high and you should realign your expectations. Why not befriend someone you think is beneath you? You might be surprised. The worst thing that could happen is your new friend turns out to be emotionally disturbed and tries to hurt you if you ever try and leave. Another name for that is called unconditional love. Not such a bad option after all.
In grammar school there was that one kid that was too low on the rung even for me. We all have that one kid in our lives. I wish I’d befriended him because I’m sure it wasn’t an easy life for him. I watched him through the years until he just drifted away. If I saw him today I would ask him to play.
Your Friend,
Ted
